Austin's Diary - Day by Day

Day by Day:

Nothing dramatic happened after the dinner with Zach and his winning boyfriend. I’m sure stuff was going on behind the scenes because Gordon and Landon appeared on our doorstep like the wicked wizards of the North. I know—harsh—but you try having a conversation with a man who has been on the cover of all the major papers and keeps a cane in his car. Milton says the cane is a rumor, but I don’t want to find out.

Gordon was sitting across from me at the dining room table being terrifying. He was actually just eating and asking polite but pointed questions. I can’t give an oral dissertation and eat dinner, especially with that man. I pushed the food around my plate. Milton touched my wrist, a sure sign that he had noticed my anemic appetite.

“Don’t feel good. Throat hurts.”

Milton raised an eyebrow. Yeah, I was lying, and damn I hoped he wouldn’t call me on it. The eyebrow told me that I wasn’t pulling anything over on him.

“Upstairs and get into bed. Pajamas. No computer or other electronics. I’ll bring some tea up later. Go on now.” He kissed the top of my head and pulled me up from the chair. “Scoot, cub.”

Seven o’clock and I was being sent to bed. I was so in trouble. I was sure he’d bring something with him besides the tea: canes, paddles, little tasseled whips. Lying to my dom. The biggest no-no in the book.

I changed into my jammies and crawled into bed. I should have stuck it out downstairs; it would have been better than hours of boredom. Watching the numbers turn on the digital alarm clock wasn’t exciting; counting the red squares and then the blue squares of the quilt was even less exciting.

“May I come in?” Landon was standing in the doorway, carrying a mug and a plate of Mace’s chocolate chip cookies. “I thought the sick boy might like a treat.”

I flushed a horrible red. I could feel the heat prickling on the back of my neck and rising to cover my ears.

“Yes, I know,” Landon said gently, “and so does Milton. He was very kind about it, don’t you think?”

I nodded, still too flustered to speak.

“It’s not a good idea, sweetheart. I’ve been doing this a long time and lying will not have a good outcome.”

I nodded again, feeling like some stupid bobble head doll. The first five-hundred people to the summer gala receive a free bobble head doll of the last submissive who lied to both Gordon and Milton. I was dead. No, dead was too fast and merciful. I was going to wish for dead.

“Don’t turn white and all wide-eyed and petrified. Milton is a humane dominant.” Landon sat down on the bed and handed me the steaming mug of cocoa. “This is not your last meal.” Landon ruffled my hair and kissed my cheek. “So what set this off tonight?”

Oh, great. Gordon scares the shit out of me wasn’t going to go far with his partner. I buried my head in the cocoa mug; that was safe enough.

“Austin.” Landon brushed his knuckle down my cheek. “All young submissives are afraid of Gordon. For an eighteen-year-old, he must be terrifying. We understand that; Milton most of all. He survived Gordon at seventeen.”

Well, Milton had more balls than wimpy old me. I would have fled naked and barefoot in the snow.

“Gordon is direct; he has high expectations, but he is not unfair.” Landon took a bite out of a cookie. “That boy can cook.” Landon grinned. “If you want to get Mace’s ire up just call him boy a few times. Milton can get away with it, but no one else.”

I watched Landon through my eyelashes as I drank my cocoa. Sheldon said Landon was OK, but he went with Gordon, and he was old. Grandfathers weren’t supposed to be doing this. Both mine had felt too old to raise a child; they drank coffee and went to bingo. They didn’t do terrifying things with canes or want it done to them.

“You’re talkative.” Landon kissed the top of my head. “Well, I tried. You’re not in any more trouble for the lie. Milton told Gordon that sending you to bed early was all that you needed. I’ll leave you to brood in silence.” Landon picked up my mug and left a single cookie on the nightstand, “Goodnight. Sleep well.”

Epic fail I didn’t even manage a thanks before he was out the door and out of earshot. I flopped down on the pillows and squeezed my eyes shut. Sometimes I’m just an idiot. I couldn’t even go after him; I was confined to bed like a naughty little boy. I scrambled for the hall, hoping to catch him before he went downstairs, hoping he wouldn’t tattle to Milton that I was out of bed.

“Landon.”

He stopped with his foot on the second tread and looked back at me. “Milton sent you to bed. I wouldn’t be anyplace else.”

He was a submissive? His eyes and voice were as demanding as any top’s. I stepped back, making room on the landing. He set the plate and mug on the floor and caught my head between his hands and studied me for an interminably long time. I squirmed and stared at the polished, hardwood floor.

“No, I don’t think you’re looking for trouble. I think you’re confused,” Landon said at last and let go of my face. “As a submissive there are direct and known consequences to your actions. You lied at dinner; you were sent to bed. You sat on the bed doing a fine imitation of a stuffed frog on a lily pad, so I left you alone. If Milton finds you in the hall, retribution will be swift.” Landon brushed my hair back from my face and took my hand in his. “Back to bed with you.”

I followed meekly behind, ashamed at my tight grip on his fingers. I shouldn’t be sent to bed in almost the afternoon, and I was going like a lamb. What was the matter with me?

“In you go.” Landon pulled back the quilt and patted the sheets. “You don’t want to know how many times I put Milton to bed. He was usually in worse shape than you. He and Gordon could fight. Will of iron—both of them.”

I curled on the side on the bed, and Landon draped the quilt over me. “Why do I do this?”

“Submit?” Landon asked.

“I let him order me to bed.”

“And worse there’s something about you that likes it. That’s the frightening part. You want your man to boss you around.”

I nodded. “You submit to Gordon.”

“And occasionally to Milton if he asks me right. And I flirt with it with Ryan. He’s so hot I can’t help myself. Blue-eyed god.” Landon sat down on the bed and hitched up his trousers. “It’s different for everyone. Sexual excitement, of course. Gordon as master is delicious.” Landon gave me a cockeyed grin. “You must see that with Milton.”

I nodded. That moment before I ended facedown over his knee was a strange mixture of terror and crazy excitement. “It hurts.”

“You don’t process the pain to pleasure the way I do or Blade does.”

I shook my head. “A little, maybe. Blade likes welts.”

Landon threaded his fingers through my hair, stroking gently. “Blade likes the welts because they come from Ryan. Beatings are a strong part of their sexual dynamic. Ryan could hit Blade and make him hate it, but he rarely does because he wants to take pleasure in the whippings. Ryan needs to give pain, but he abhors it if his partner is miserable. His dynamic requires his partner to dance with pleasure under the whip. Your thrill is submitting, not feeling the whip on your skin. There is no right or wrong way.”

“What about Zach?”

“A tough one.” Landon kissed my forehead. “Part of the component of any relationship is the partners caring for each other. With this dynamic, especially with a young and inexperienced submissive, a certain type of dominant can become fixated on the care taking side. This can become suffocating, and all the real reasons for being either a submissive or a dominant can be lost. It’s especially dangerous on the dominant’s side to see corporal punishment only as an extension of care taking. The dominant is creating pain; the dominant enjoys creating pain. He must never forget those two axioms, or he will manipulate the relationship into a series of excuses to allow the infliction of corporal punishment with neither partner being fully satisfied. I’m sure neither Bruce or Zach set out to create the disaster they find themselves in now.”

“Why doesn’t Zach leave?”

“He probably loved Bruce once, and it’s not always easy to see that it has gone wrong from the inside. We’ll get him out of there. I’m good at it even if I have to deal with Gordon’s wrath for going from suggestions to Machiavellian manipulations.” Landon grinned. “I’m sure I can engineer some lovely employment for Zach in Vermont and Bruce in the Arctic with no phone service. It won’t be the first time.” Landon stroked the back of my neck, his hands warm and reassuring. “It’s frightening to see it go wrong. I know. There by the grace of God go I. You have a support structure around you, a group of peers to ask the right questions and demand real answers. I’m Gordon’s submissive, a dominant who makes you sweat and shake when he looks at you. Do I look browbeaten? Do I seem incapable of making the most basic decisions? I submit, but I do not abdicate my right to be a full member of adult society. If Gordon tells me to wear a green shirt, I do it because as my dominant he can place restrictions on all parts of my person, I don’t do it because I’m not capable of knowing which shirt and tie go together. It’s a fine and difficult distinction. Thank about it.” Landon looked at the clock. “You’ll have plenty of thinking time; it’s still early.”